Thirteen Battles to Pokemon Master
by Contrarian
Summary: [One shot] Fred and George have swiped Dudley’s Gameboy Advance in their latest visit to the Dursleys'. What will Hermione do when Ron becomes determined to be the next Pokemon Master? Vague RHr


A short, silly semi-Ron/Hermione fic inspired by Pisces' "Fifteen Levels to Goddom". If you haven't read it, go read it – it's for Sonic the Hedgehog and it's hysterical. I just got Pokemon: Emerald Version (nerd? Yes I am), and then I read Pisces' fic…and so this fic was born. Have a ball.

_Thirteen Battles to Pokemon Master _

Fred and George had already inflicted massive psychological scarring on Dudley just by _grinning_ at him two summers ago. He had scuttled (as much as a boy of his girth could scuttle) around the house sideways with his hands clamped over his sizable posterior for the remainder of the summer until he was safe at school again, far from evilly smiling twin wizards.

Yes, the twins had done their fair share of damage already, but this…_this_ was a new level of diabolical. Not only had their strange not-exactly-leather jackets frightened Dudley enough to send him sprinting to the cover of the basement, but while he was hiding, they had taken one of his prize possessions.

He had gone shaking back upstairs to his bedroom with every intention of switching on his Gameboy Advance and having another go at the Elite Four. He had reached out towards his nightstand, and then froze with his hand still outstretched.

Instead of the translucent, purple, handheld entertainment device that he knew and loved, there was a clean rectangle of wood on an otherwise dust-covered surface.

He stared.

He blinked.

He stared some more.

By the time the horror of the situation registered, his bellow of anger could no longer be heard by the criminals, who were currently at the Burrow clearing his almost-completed file.

-

Slam. Bash. Whack.

Eyes narrowed in furious concentration, moisture glistened beneath a curtain of red hair. Thumbs moved furiously, flicking through a quick series of menus.

Bang. Smash. Thump.

A bead of sweat slid in a slow path down the side of Ron Weasley's face as he watched his HP meter drop by at least a third. He swore under his breath and selected the "Fight" option, studying the two moves he had at his disposal. As far as he had been able to determine, "Scratch" made his opponent's bar lessen a little, while "Growl" made his opponent's attack take off a little less. He looked at the bar at the top left-hand corner of the screen. It was colored red. He selected "Scratch".

Tap. Bam. Whack. Bling Bling Bling.

With a little off-key trill, the creature at the right dropped off the screen. "Rattata" had been vanquished. He watched in satisfaction as he earned twenty-seven experience points, and then he moved around in a little circle on the grass until the screen blinked and flashed, signaling the beginning of a new battle. The cycle began again.

Swish. Bang. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Brown eyes alight with an idle sort of interest, Hermione Granger strolled over to where Ron stood staring with furious concentration at the tiny screen of his new favorite toy. Harry had explained to him how to turn it on and which buttons to use, and ever since then Ron had stood in that exact spot, thumbs moving furiously as he got the hang of "Pokemon: Blue Version".

She was a little exasperated with Harry, to be perfectly frank. She had actually been looking forward to spending time with Ron at the Burrow this summer, but ever since Fred and George had returned from the Dursley's house with the Gameboy, Ron had been too absorbed in the game to even think about _eating_, let along talk to her.

Hermione wondered, with a scientific sort of curiosity, what the appeal of this Pokemon game was. She had never played it, preferring books to video games any day, but if it made Ron disregard food so casually, well, it had to have _some_ kind of hypnotic power.

Maybe there were subliminal messages that said things like "Keep Playing," and "You're Not Hungry," and "You've Only Been Playing For Two Minutes, Not Two Hours."

Tap. Bam. Bash.

An irritating, repetitive beeping suddenly emanated from the Gameboy. Ron cursed, loudly this time, and Hermione could only assume that that meant he was losing. Once the beeping had stopped and Ron's expression grew less tense, Hermione walked across the room, stopping behind Ron and standing on her tiptoes so she could see over his shoulder.

Just how much had he grown, anyway? She was only catching a small sliver of the screen; the rest was blocked by his shoulder, clad in a blue shirt today. She noted that it would probably match his eyes…and then shook herself and moved to the side a little. She huffed in frustration when the glare from the window prevented her from seeing anything on the screen. Fine. She would just have to break his hypnosis.

She tried being casual about it first.

"What are you playing, Ron?" she asked politely, hoping that he would show her the screen. To her displeasure, he didn't even look up for a moment, the very tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth in the full intensity of his concentration.

Finally: "Pokemon".

This answer was more of a grunt. If she hadn't already known what game he'd been staring at for the past _five hours_, she probably wouldn't have been able to tell what he had said.

"Really?" she asked, fighting to keep her tone light and inquisitive. "It must be pretty engrossing."

Another grunt. She sighed, and leaned over to get a view of the screen, asking at the same time, "Hey, can I see?"

This actually brought about a coherent response.

"Hermione!" he said irritably, pulling the screen out from under her nose. "You're blocking the screen!'

She glared at him, planting her hands on her hips, but his attention was focused on the game again and he didn't notice.

This was just _ridiculous_.

"Well, what's so great about 'Pokemon', then, that's made you ignore me for five hours _straight_?" she snapped, not bothering to be friendly about it now. Ron didn't move from his position, shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed into slits as he battled away, but he did answer, and very vehemently at that.

"I am going to become a _Pokemon_ _MASTER_!" he announced in frenzied tones, nodding sharply for emphasis. Hermione took a step back at his intensity, surprised by his fervor. Ron's gaze became frighteningly possessive as he gripped the Gameboy even tighter, thumbs moving quickly as he flicked through more menus and selected more attacks, more items, more Pokemon to do battle. "This is something none of my brothers have ever done," he continued. "And when I become a Master, they'll be inferior to _me_!"

Hermione rolled her eyes heavenward and exclaimed, "_That's_ what this is? Some sort of stupid ego boost? This is what you've been ignoring me for hours for? Let me tell you something, Ron: I haven't talked to anyone yet. Harry and Ginny have disappeared, Fred and George are locked up in their room doing Merlin knows what kind of experiments, Bill and Charlie aren't around yet…"

She stared at him, looking for some sign that he was listening. Not receiving one, she clenched her fists. Through gritted teeth, she asked, "What do you have to do to beat the game?"

"Beat eight Gym Leaders, the Elite Four, and the Champion," Ron said promptly, though still staring at the screen.

"And how many Gym Leaders have you beaten so far?"

"…Well…none. None, actually – this game is taking a while to get the hang of, and your Pokemon have to be on a high level…"

"So even after five hours, you still have thirteen battles to go?"

"And a lot of other ones in between."

Hermione was silent, staring at Ron as his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue became visible again. A faint pink tinge reached her cheeks. Even though others might have noticed this warning sign straight off and quickly apologized for their offense, Ron was too engrossed in his newest rival to see or care.

The Gameboy Advance was suddenly torn from the astounded boy's grasp, his orange, Chudley Cannon poster-adorned door swinging shut behind Hermione and his precious game.

Hermione was already downstairs and headed for the front door by the time his yell of fury reached her ears. The chase was on.

-

Harry and Ginny watched bemusedly as the front door banged open and Hermione bolted past them, her laughter bordering on unhinged. A small, purple, plastic object was clutched tightly in both of her hands. Ginny blinked, staring after the fleeing girl, and a second later the door burst open again. This time Ron sprinted out, bellowing something and running after Hermione with his arms stretched out in front of him. His face was redder than his hair.

Harry glanced at Ginny, who shook her head slowly.

"That…was odd," she said slowly, watching her brother's retreating form.

"Yeah."

"Should we see what's going on?"

When Hermione looked like she was slipping towards the edge of her sanity and Ron's face was that shade, it probably wasn't a good idea to get involved.

"No."

"All right, then."

-

_Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin!_

_I'm going to _die

As Hermione sprinted across the Weasleys' front lawn, she found herself wondering if her sanity had abandoned her the moment she stole the object currently clutched as tightly as she dared against her chest. She didn't want to drop it, but holding her arms like that prevented her from running as fast as she was able, and because of that Ron was steadily gaining on her. She leapt over a stump, he went straight past it, and collided with her in a flying tackle just as she touched down again.

She had just enough time to mutter a resigned "Damn" before tumbling to a painful halt.

She rolled defensively up into a ball, shielding the Gameboy from Ron, who tugged at her arms furiously, trying to extract the device from her tight grasp. She kicked out desperately, trying to keep him at bay. Whatever mind-trapping powers this game held, she was determined not to let her friend fall victim to it any longer.

"Ron, it's for your own good!" she yelled, swinging at him with her free hand. "Your brain is going to turn into absolute – hey!"

Instead of attempting to wrench the Gameboy from her grip again, as she expected, Ron suddenly yanked her to her feet and threw her over his shoulder. She gaped at his back. She wasn't a heavyweight, to be sure, but there was no way Ron could be that strong. Quidditch just didn't do that much for your muscles!

What was going on?

He was already running back in the direction of the house. Hermione thumped his back with the hand that wasn't still clamped around the Gameboy, shouting, "I can walk by myself, you great oaf! Put me down!"

But his arm only tightened around her waist, preventing her from struggling out of his grasp. With a final, halfhearted whack to her seemingly possessed friend's back, she spit out the locks of her hair that had gotten into her mouth and sulked in a rather uncharacteristic fashion as Ron thundered back into his house and up the stairs.

-

With surprise and some trepidation, Hermione noted that instead of continuing up the stairs to his room, he stopped outside another door, behind which came the sound of muffled explosions and twin laughter.

With his free hand, Ron knocked on the door. The explosions and laughter stopped, and the door opened.

-

George blinked at the sight of Hermione slung over his youngest brother's shoulder, but shrugged and said, "Hey, this worked out better than we thought, Fred."

"What do you…oh! Oh, yes, much better. Well done, Ron."

"Well done?" Hermione yelled, trying unsuccessfully to twist around and stare incredulously at George. Or Fred. Or whoever the hell it was in the doorway. "Gred, I mean, Fred, or George, what is going on? What's wrong with Ron?"

"Come in, come in," George said, pleased with his and his brother's success. Ron paced through the door and George shut it behind them.

"You can put her down, Ron, and take the Gameboy from her."

Ron promptly dropped Hermione and swiped the device from her grip, which had loosened from surprise. He immediately bent his head over it again, thumbs moving furiously.

Hermione stood shakily, rubbing the feeling back into her arms, and stared at Ron, who from the first of five hours hadn't been acting like the Ron she knew.

"Someone explain what's gotten into him," she demanded, jerking her head in the concentrating redhead's direction. George rubbed his hands together and said, "No need to fret, Hermione – everything's under control. More specifically, his mind is under _our_ control."

"_WHAT?_"

"Nothing serious," George hastened to explain. "It's just a small hypnotic spell we cast on the screen." Both twins nodded in the direction of the Gameboy Advance. "Just a test, you see, nothing to worry about."

Hermione couldn't help but be a bit impressed. Still…

"But isn't that a bit like the Imperius Curse?"

"Not that much," Fred said. "Because it's cast on an object, see, and not the person. If he hadn't been staring at it for so long, the spell would've worn off when you took it away."

"You nearly ruined it for us," George added, "But luckily he got it back in time. Quite a show, isn't it?"

"But what for? Why on Earth would you develop something like this?"

"A new product, that's all," Fred said with a shrug. "Looks like we'll have to tone it down a little, if it lasted over five hours. We don't want anything happening to his mind."

Hermione stared at him in horror, then in anger.

"Undo that spell _right now_!" she growled. "Who knows what you might have done to him?"

"Relax," George said soothingly. "There shouldn't be any lasting damage. Maybe he'll be a bit dazed, but…"

Hermione's hand flew up warningly, and George backed away, holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"All right, all right…Merlin!"

He waved his wand and said the counter-spell under his breath. Ron blinked and looked up from the screen. Hermione took the opportunity to snatch the Gameboy away again, but instead of howling and leaping after her as she half-feared he might, he just looked at her a little oddly.

"When'd I get in here?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head bemusedly.

"Never mind that, dear brother," Fred said cheerfully. "You've been a marvelous help. Now if you don't mind leaving…"

Ron found himself being steered firmly out of the room by two pairs of hands. The door snapped shut behind him. He followed Hermione down the stairs, wondering if she would voluntarily tell him what the hell had just happened. A quick glance at her told him this was probably not the case. Her head was bent and her shoulders were hunched up. He wondered with a rising anxiety if he had done something to upset her.

"Er…Hermione?" he ventured tentatively. She didn't answer him, but wandered into the dining room and stood near the wall with her back to him. He stood still, alarmed by her behavior. What could he possibly have done? The last thing he wanted to do was upset Hermione, especially since he was going to be more or less living with her for the rest of the summer.

_Bloody hell_, he thought, angry with himself. _It hasn't even been six hours since she got here and already she isn't speaking to me. And here I was going to make an extra effort not to get into these pointless rows…_

"Hermione," he began again, and stepped back when she said – or grunted rather – in a sharp tone, "Quiet, Ron."

Even more confused, and more than a little hurt, he opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could get a word out she continued: "You're wrecking my concentration."

He went closer and peered over her shoulder. Two strange creatures were fighting on the tiny screen of the Gameboy Advance, and were also currently holding Hermione's full attention.

"Hermione! What are you-"

"RONALD WEASLEY!" she yelled, actually pausing the game. "How am I supposed to become a Pokemon Master if you keep distracting me? WELL?"

He stepped back and blinked. His expression darkened, then…

"Give that _back_! RON!"

-

Harry and Ginny watched as the front door burst open and Ron and Hermione ran out again, Ron's hands clamped over the purple Gameboy, Hermione in hot pursuit. Harry sighed and looked at Ginny.

"D'you think we should just go inside?" he asked wearily as Hermione launched herself at Ron, fingers curled so that they resembled claws. Several yelps and vulgar language ensued.

"Fine by me. What are Fred and George up to, anyway? I haven't seen them all day…"

-

"Gah! You knocked the batteries out! I…what are we doing out here? And why am I strangling you?"

"My head…"

"That's a nasty bump, Ron. Come on – I'll get you some ice."

-

Upstairs, George let the curtain fall back against the window, blocking out the view of Hermione helping a limping Ron to the front door. He turned to Fred with a resigned sigh.

"Well…crap."

-

_Disclaimer_: All Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Pokemon: Blue Version belongs to…the Pokemon people. Don't sue me.

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